


Playing By The Numbers

by Prentice



Category: White Collar
Genre: El is pretty amazing, I'd suspend reality if I were you, Instant Connection, M/M, Neal has issues, Peter has issues with Neal's issues, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Unsafe Sex, hidden identity, there's a lot of porn in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prentice/pseuds/Prentice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Peter Burke sleeps with Neal Caffrey it’s only a few weeks after being assigned the younger man’s case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this as a lark and it ended up turning into a monster that enjoys a lot of porn with a little plot. I make no apologizes about that or my horrible abuse of tenses (I can never get the hang of them). Also, this was posted elsewhere before but I've pretty heavily edited it into (hopefully) better shape.

The first time Peter Burke sleeps with Neal Caffrey it’s only a few weeks after being assigned the younger man’s case; his superiors hoping he’ll be the one to cross the T’s and dot the I’s on this unlike all the previous agents who’d been rotated off the case when things had started to get way too out-of-hand. He takes the assignment – what choice does he have? – and doesn’t realize it’s Neal he’s tumbling into this _thing_ with until it’s much, much too late. There are only a handful of photographs of Caffrey, after all, and those are only grainy CCTV shots from private banks and high-end art galleries that show a man, impeccably dressed, charming his way into some of the most secured facilities across the country.

They’re not enough to garner details from however, and have nothing on the piercing blue eyes that smile at him from across the bar, vibrant and playful, or the seductive grin the stretches across pretty pink lips when he raises an eyebrow, questioning and beckoning the other man over.  He should have known then, of course, what with the designer suit and tie, the mussed hair and jauntily angled hat, the all too enticing personality that seems to blossom under Peter’s interest. He should have known  - he _should_ have; he was a trained agent for chrissake -  but he hadn’t, and hangs onto the thin comfort that brings him when everything  is said and done.

It helps, too, that what happens after the drinks and the talking just seems inevitable. He knows it from the second the younger man saddles over, all creamy skin and smooth gait, and makes Peter laugh when he offers to buy him a drink. No pretenses, no pressure, just an easy offer that Peter’s more than happy to accept.

It’s not as though he’s doing anything wrong, in any case. He and Elizabeth have had an understanding for years, one that is as comfortable and homey to the both of them as they ever could have dreamed of it being, and so he doesn’t even begin to feel guilty when he backs Neal – or Kyle, rather; he’d said his name was Kyle when they’d introduced themselves – into the dirty alley wall behind the bar and jerks them off with rough dirty strokes that leave him hungry for so much more.  He almost – _almost_ – asks Kyle for his number when it’s all over and done with, their cocks still nestled hotly against one another. He even contemplates for half a second what it might be like to spend the night wrapped up in this man’s arms, this man’s body, but discards the idea almost as quickly as it comes.

He has a job to do, a criminal to catch, and as nice as it would be to explore this whatever-this-is between them it would be a distraction he doesn’t exactly need, so instead he kisses Kyle’s lips, slowly and thoroughly, and licks across the inside of his mouth until he has it memorized. When he finally pulls back, Kyle’s eyes are glazed and wide, like Peter has surprised him in some unfathomable way, and for an uncomfortable itchy moment Peter wonders how old this man – kid? – is with his too smooth skin and stylish suits. Wonders if maybe, just maybe, this is this kid’s first encounter, pressed up against a dirty wall with someone like Peter looming over him, but he shakes it off immediately. He isn’t Kyle’s father or his brother and he’s not going to make this thing into something more than it is by trying to play the part, so he rubs their lips together gently, carefully zips them up, and walks out of the alleyway without ever looking back, happy to have that out of his system so he can focus on his case.


	2. Second

The second time Peter sleeps with Neal he still thinks the other man is Kyle, and doesn’t question the ‘hows’ and ‘whys’ of the situation  even though he should because, somehow, it makes sense seeing Kyle again, and he’s happy about it. Happier than he’s been in a long long time and he makes a point of not thinking too closely about that. He just wants to enjoy it, the warm rush of feeling he gets when he claps eyes on the man.

Standing just a few feet away, Kyle’s holding a dark blue umbrella over his head and smiles widely when their eyes meet across a crowd of busy New Yorkers hustling their way undeterred through the rain. There’s no tension in the air, no practiced blankness in his gaze as though  he’s trying to pretend he’s never laid eyes on Peter before, and Peter doesn’t hesitate to ask him out for a quick lunch because this might just be exactly what he needs right now. He needs a distraction, some time away from this Caffrey case, and more importantly, he needs to see those eyes and that smile again up close and personal.

They eat barbecue beef sandwiches at a deli down the street from the bank Caffrey had cashed in his forged bonds at and Kyle – _Neal_ – blows him in the warm confines of his nondescript four-door sedan. They’re on a side street, tucked away from curious eyes and random passersby, disguised by a torrential downpour that hasn’t let up since early that morning. Neal is licking and sucking his cock like it’s a piece of candy he can’t get enough of, mouth so damn hot and wet, and Peter can do nothing but thread his fingers into silky hair, petting and encouraging that bobbing head until he comes with a growl that’s half pleasure, half frustration because he wanted  it to last longer.

He kisses Neal when he finally sits up, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, sweeping his tongue inside that too talented mouth like he wants to make it his own. He can taste himself there, salty sweet and familiar, and groans low and deep when he realizes Neal must have swallowed and that they didn’t use a condom. They should have – _he_ should have – it’s stupid and careless not to and he’s too damn old to be making mistakes like that, but he can’t bring himself to give a damn now or when he palms Neal’s cock free of its confines and swallows it down to the root.

It isn’t easy. Jaw muscles he hasn’t used in year strain under the sudden stretch and he knows he’ll be paying the  price for it come morning when he’s raspy voiced and unable to even chew without it hurting, but it’s worth it, so damn worth it, to hear the startled shout that leaves Neal’s lips. Worth it to feel the way he’s suddenly grasping at Peter, surprised and frantic, and trying to keep his hips from jerking up and up. Totally and completely worth it when, not a minute later, Neal is jaggedly moaning his name and flooding Peter’s mouth, his body curling forward and his hips rising a little off the seat.

Peter makes it a point to thoroughly lick him clean, enjoying the soft little whimpers that come from above him, and doesn’t pull away until Neal’s gone soft and he can help zip him back up in those expensive looking slacks.  They part with a kiss after that, a promise to meet each other again sometime, and Peter jumps back into the case with a kind of vigor he hasn’t felt in years, loose limbed and confident that he can catch Caffrey before the next forged bond makes its way back into the system. He just knows he can.


	3. Third

The third time he sleeps with Neal it’s just a few days before the fourth time he sleeps with him and has to stamp down the almost painful urge to make this thing between them more official, more real. He can’ t do that . Not yet. It’s just too much too soon and he can’t bring himself to lay this thing – whatever it  is  – at Neal’s –  Kyle’s  door yet.

Things between them are  just too  fresh , and Peter tries  his best to tell himself that every time he finds himself thinking of Kyle, almost absently scanning the unfamiliar faces pa ssing around him, half-hoping he’ll see the one he wants.  He tries his best to tell himself that when he finally does  see it , almost jerking out of his skin when he spots that all-too-familiar flash of brilliant blue eyes and stylishly tousled hair on the other side of the street. He tries to tell himself that when he finds himself following Kyle all the way down to the train station, the distance between them growing smaller all the time, and drops himself into the seat next to the man on a train headed away from downtown.

He tries to tell himself  that  over and over again, but there’s been another robbery, another forgery, and his teeth are on edge. His nerves are jangling inside of him, all but screaming with useless indignation, because Caffrey has done it again (and again and  again ) and it’s getting under his skin, how easily the man is slipping through his fingers.  He shouldn’t be – Peter is no narcissist but he knows he’s good at his job, damn good even, and  he’s not going to let this case be shuttled off to someone else to solve.  One way or another he’s going to get Caffrey right where he wants him but until  then…until  then he can afford a  little  bit of a distraction.

This is exactly what he gets when Kyle finally notices who it is sitting next to him on the train. Eyes widening and lips parting, he looks entirely too startled, like he’s wondering how long Peter has been with him, if he’s been with him all along. It makes Peter smile, small and tight though it is, and he doesn’t beat around the bush this time, doesn’t ask him out to eat, just asks him point blank if he’s busy at the moment. The answer is a somewhat hesitant ‘no’ and for half a second Peter wonders if he should call this off and just get off the train at the next stop, go home and bury himself in paperwork.

He  can’t, though. Not now that he’s seen the younger man again. N ot n ow that he’s close enough to see those lips and remember what they felt like against his own, what they felt like around his cock. Licking his lips, he tilts his head, something inside him loosening when Kyle’s eyes automatically fall to his mouth, and when the next stop  comes  Peter wastes no time leading him off the train and towards an old abandoned building the bureau had kitted out for stake-outs and surveillance. It’s not in the best of neighborhoods but it isn’t in use  at the moment and Peter only has to do a cursory sweep of the place before he’s backing Kyle into a darkened corner and pulling at clothes and belts like his life depends on it.

They’re out of the way in a flurry of movements, hands fumbling with zippers and buttons until he’s rocking them together, erections slipping and sliding against each other in twitchy sweaty glides that get smoother with every thrust. It feels incredible, like a thousand different things finally  slotting  into place, and he can’t help but  groan , biting at the skin on Kyle’s neck, teeth scraping over  tender flesh .  It’ll leave  a mark, one that Kyle won’ t easily be able to hide, but he doesn’t care. He wants the man to wear his marks, wants him to look in the mirror and remember every single thing that they’ve done together.

It isn’t over this time as quickly as the last despite  their almost frantic rocking and Peter takes perverse pleasure in bringing them to the edge repeatedly before pulling them sharply back. It’s like a game, seeing how far they can go, and he brings them to the teetering edge  twice before they’re both too worked up to hold back anymore. Hips pushing and grinding against one another, they tumble over the edge almost simultaniously, Peter with a low drawn out growl that seems to reverberate through the building and Kyle with a hoarse shout that might have been Peter’s name and might have not.

When they finally leave, clothes in as much order as they can make them, it’s with a lazy drawn out kiss that Peter thinks about all the way back to his hotel room . Jerks off to the next morning when he’s in the shower, hands slick with soap suds and his own need . Afterwards, he shelves it because he has to work, has to be able to concentrate, and does his best to bury himself in the investigation until they’re nothing left to know save  forwhy they always seem to be one step behind Caffrey in this cat-and-mouse game they’re play ing . And they are playing, at least in  Caffrey’s  mind, there’s no doubt about that.

It isn’t later, much later, when he’s home again and has evidence lists, photographs, and a pile of case folders spread across his dining room table , trying to think outside the box like Neal, that he realizes that he has a dark red love bite on his neck that’s only  now  just fading. He touches it, fondles it really, and flushes pink when El notices from her place across the table and teases him mercilessly, her eyes warm and laughing. God but he’d married the right woman.


	4. Fourth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the delay in getting this up! The new year has been a busy one for me and this fic somehow got lost in the shuffle. :( 
> 
> On that note, though, I'm happy to say this is the longest chapter yet! \o/ Also, for those wondering, the back and forth between Neal and Peter is going to go on for a few more chapters before Peter finally starts getting a little suspicious so enjoy the drama-free porn while it lasts. XD

The fourth time he sleeps with Neal, it’s only a handful of days later and he thinks that maybe the universe is trying to tell him something when he looks up from where he’s taking a late lunch at a hot dog cart to see Kyle staring at him from the café across the way. He finishes his lunch in two bites, hastily binning the trash and making his way over, barely able to resist the urge to lean down and kiss the man hello. He wants to – god does he want to – but instead settles on a grin, stomach tightening pleasantly when the other man seems to drink it in, eyes darkening to a stormy blue when he asks Peter if he’s busy.

Shaking his head, Peter waits patiently while the other man settles up his bill and follows him companionably to one of the nicer hotels in the area. It’s the kind of place he might have taken El once, before they settled into their agreement for having a happy friendship based marriage with no strings attached. He couldn’t have afforded it unless it was for a special occasion, though, and bites down on the urge to ask questions when the doorman greets Kyle by name and doesn’t blink an eye when Peter follows him in.  He’s the one who had started this whole ‘no questions, no answers’ thing between them, no matter how ill advised it was, and goes with the flow even when he realizes that they’re headed to the penthouse.

It’s spacious and extravagant without being gauche and Peter tries not to grin when the other man doesn’t even bat an eye at all the luxury around them. Instead he turns to him and stares, his expression hopeful and expectant, like he’s waiting for Peter to make the first move despite being the one to invite him into his own space, if only temporarily.  It’s an enticement that Peter can’t resist and he moves in, a tight coiling knot of pleasure burning brightly in his belly. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this wanted, a long time since he’s _been_ this wanted.

Hands reaching up to cradle Kyle’s – _Neal’s_ – face, he has every intention of doing this slowly, of savoring every moment, but somehow it’s a blur from the first kiss to the sofa, where Neal’s pawing helplessly at the pillows while Peter finger-fucks him with the focused deliberation of a man who likes to take care of his partners. Neal’s tight back there, tight enough to tell Peter that he hasn’t been with a man, at least not recently, and he promises himself to go slow – slower – and to never forget the look of astonished pleasure that sweeps over that beautiful face when he very deliberately toys with that sweet spot inside of Neal. The sound he makes alone is enough to force Peter to squeeze himself tightly, dick sticky with pre-come and so hard it hurts to let it go.

He’s only gotten two fingers in, scissoring and stretching, massaging that little bundle of nerves that makes Neal writhe against him, before it becomes too much and Neal is shouting hoarsely, limbs trembling as he comes all over the upholstery. It takes him a bit to recover, body shaky as he slumps against the cushions, and Peter gives him that, hands and lips brushing soft caresses against bare skin, before Neal suddenly slips to the floor, naked and loose limbed, and sucks Peter’s cock into his mouth with sloppy grace.

It’s not a perfect blowjob, there’s something almost lazy about it, like Neal’s trying his damndest to make this good for Peter but he just doesn’t have the energy, but Peter doesn’t mind. It’s enough to be able to look down and see pink lips stretched wide and wanting around him, shiny with pre-come and saliva. It’s enough to be able to reach down a hand and tangle fingers into soft locks, not quite pulling but steadying.

That doesn’t seem to be the case for Neal, though. Instead of settling into any sort of rhythm, he wiggles his fingers beneath Peter’s thighs, fingertips pushing up against his skin until he understands what he wants. Groaning, Peter starts to thrust, gently at first, unsure of just how far he can go with this, but Neal – _Kyle_ – is urging him faster, deeper, and soon he’s losing himself in it, fingers tightening on Kyle’s bobbing head until he spills down his throat with a hoarse wordless shout.

Slowly he loosens his hold on the other man’s hair, combing his fingers through it affectionately, almost but not quite shivering at the way warm breath ghosts pleasantly across his thighs. It should be criminal, the way this man can stir him up so fast; make him want things he shouldn’t. At least not right now, not when he’s in the middle of what might be one of the most important cases of his career.

Mouth pulling into a lopsided grin, Peter tugs playfully at a strand of hair, smile widening at the way Kyle looks up at him almost balefully, lips mouthing against the side of his oversensitive and softening cock. Shivering, Peter doesn’t think about it when he murmurs ‘you’re good at that’, tone full of nothing but fond praise, and enjoys the pleasantly embarrassed blush that instantly steals across Kyle’s pale cheeks at the compliment. It makes him look younger, that blush, but unlike the last time, Peter isn’t disconcerted, isn’t wondering or worrying if there’s been any men before him, and grins when the younger man nudges him towards the clean part of the sofa.

He moves without protest, delighting in the smooth slide of skin as the man crawls into his lap and presses a bruising kiss onto his lips before settling against him in happy, sated silence. They stay like that for a while, warm and satisfied, cocooned in by plush cushions and each other’s limbs, before eventually Kyle pulls back, stares into Peter’s eyes almost searchingly and asks, rather shyly, if he’d like to stay. The temptation to say ‘yes’ is nearly overwhelming, the possibility of having a few more hours like this, exploring every inch of the other man’s body, is intoxicating, but he can’t shirk his responsibilities.

He needs to get back to work and put a few more hours in on one of the smaller cases his team is handling while they wait for the lab to finish processing all the evidence from Caffrey’s latest heist. Not to mention get started on the mountain of paperwork that’s cluttering up his office and most of his desk. Then there are the e-mails…

Sighing, Peter shakes his head reluctantly, stomach tightening at the way Kyle’s face falls. He could stay, he knows he could. It wouldn’t take much effort to call-in and claim a sudden and nasty bout with food poisoning, but he doesn’t want to set that precedent. At least, not yet.

Not with Kyle, who he feels like he’s known forever, longer than forever really, but who he knows next to nothing about save that he seems to want Peter as much as Peter wants him. He can’t do that to them. It isn’t fair.

Leaning forward, Peter brushes a kiss against warm lips, tongue flicking out softly, before leaning up to press one against the tip of Kyle’s nose and both his eyelids, hoping to sweep away that crestfallen look he has. He won’t stay this time – he can’t – but next time…

Next time he’ll stay the whole night.


End file.
